A Kingdom for Loki
by MarksandSpence
Summary: Loki tells the story of the early days of his arranged marriage to an Olympian queen.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** A Kingdom for Loki

**Author:** Mad (marksandspence )

**Setting:** Post Thor: The Dark World

**Rating:** Mild mature (some sexual situations, all mild).

**Summary:** Loki tells the story of how his arranged marriage to an Olympian queen was (eventually) consummated.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based in the Marvel Universe as depicted on film in the Avengers, Thor and Thor: The Dark World. I do not own or profit from the use of these characters. I have thrown in some characters of my own creation and a few from established mythology.

**Feedback**: As always, feedback is much appreciated.

**Author's Note: **_Actually this can be thought of either as a teaser for a much longer story involving these characters (you will see lots of exposition and references to events not depicted elsewhere in the known Marvel Universe; that is because this is the only written part of a sprawling story that is mostly in my mind) OR as a one-off PWP so we can all enjoy a love scene involving Loki. If you are interested in reading more of this story, let me know and I will continue it. Otherwise, just sit back and enjoy the imagery. Oh, and the rest of the story would not be told from Loki's perspective. I was just playing around with that. _

"Do you want to touch me?" She asked, rather casually one afternoon, drying herself with a towel after her regular swim. By then, I did rather desperately. Unlike the first time she had asked when I was stricken only with a suspicious curiosity.

It is true that I had not thought of her in that way for the first many months after we were stranded on that remote moon, the home to hybrids and miscreants. I believe she used to refer to it as the land of misfit toys, a reference to some childhood tale of which I was unfamiliar. Easy to see the humor in it now; less so then, when the nature of my imprisonment had merely shifted from locked cells to banishment. Still, there was freedom to plot, despite the pathetic surveillance my brother had employed consisting of a spy and a handful of Asgardian soldiers. Useful to let him think he had some control over the situation he had created, bolstered by a curious combination of hopefulness and shame.

"Do you want to touch me?" She had asked.

"Do you want me to?" I responded, only mildly curious.

"I don't mind," she shrugged with a passive smile.

"What's the fun in that?" I declared with a grin.

She frowned predictably at the implication and my attention was thereby quickly dissipating when she spoke again with just enough mischief in her voice to slow my exit.

"Some might say we aren't properly married."

"And why would that matter?"

"Because if it were discovered that the children are not yours, the only access you have to the throne of Asgard is as my husband. Children cannot rule on their own."

At this point, I could not help but be mildly impressed as she spoke these words with a brilliant balance of calculation and sensuality.

"You have given this seduction some thought. Shall I be flattered?" I tease.

She is objectively attractive, I suppose, in that rather obvious Olympian way. Her features strong and dark, her skin smooth, her body pleasingly tall, her hips round, her breasts full. She's not Aphrodite, but there is a resemblance in form. Adeline has an athleticism, a stature that catches the eye. Still, she is far from a worthy companion – a human/Olympian half-breed! Insulting, really, for a son of Odin. Given to me because she was not good enough for Thor.

What was that she had said to me when we'd first met? "I have never seduced for gain, only for pleasure."

Back then she was trying to talk me out of killing her and the seduction she was referring to was my brother's. I must admit to finding her assessment of his intellectual limitations endearing. "I imagine you are aware that honorable as he may be, your bother is not the sharpest tool in the shed and frankly it was not exactly a major challenge to _satisfy my curiosity_. But that is all it was. I had no interest in _this_," she had said gesturing around her.

Even then, heavy with child and sick as a dog, she had been able to distill the situation to its elements. "Wouldn't you rather embarrass your brother than agree to do the dirty work they wouldn't let themselves be sullied with? The freedom they've promised you won't last a minute once Odin awakes." Whether or not she was right ultimately is beyond the point, her verbal resourcefulness was enough to pique my interest. Not that killing her was completely off the table, but if it became necessary it would be on my own terms.

"Do you want to touch me?" She says, the words wriggling themselves into my mind, replaying at will

"What makes you think I might?" I ask the next time.

"You've been watching me swim. Sometimes you take the form of the guard," she says, nodding in the direction of Orgell. I wonder how she could tell. Sometimes I miss a detail here and there, but most never notice.

"I am simply fascinated by the futility of it. Back and forth, back and forth. To what end?" I answer, mocking her endeavors. She is the sort to take challenges of athleticism seriously.

I watch her frown slightly as she chooses her words. I decide to interrupt her.

"You had the servants spy on me. Why?"

"Like you don't have spies watching me," she retorts, deflecting.

The funny thing is that I do not. I have not considered it necessary. I suppose it is better to let her think I care enough.

"I certainly do not employ chamber maids to report on your bedroom habits," I scold.

I think I may see a blush in her cheeks at this.

"How else am I supposed to know what you like?" She answers with a frustrated smile.

"And what did you find out?"

"Absolutely nothing. That's why I decided to just ask," she responds with obvious frankness.

"Not much of a seduction, then. I am disappointed. I thought you were a master. Or so you said."

She answers my insult with mild frustration, "Why does it seem like you are accusing me of something when you say that. I haven't the faintest idea how to seduce you, so there is no treachery here."

"Am I so different from your many other conquests?"

She only briefly contemplates her answer, looking off to the side. "Yes. _Entirely_."

Is this flattery? Is this the seduction? She must suspect my thoughts, as she shakes her head and briskly leaves the room with a deep sigh. I let her go.

I am not sure of the precise moment when she ceased to be invisible to me, ceased to be only a pawn (though a pawn she most definitely remains). The first months she was pregnant and ailing, therefore easy to ignore. Then the babies came and I can't be bothered with any of _that_ nonsense. Of course we attended functions together, once she was recovered. That's the thing about being made a royal couple, even in the outer fringe of civilization. You are expected to keep up appearances and the eyes of the Olympic realm were passively upon us, mostly as a curiosity. We had been given a minor kingdom and expected to actually pretend it was something more. Failing to do so would have ruined the charade and likely landed me back in prison or worse. I have a plan, of course. Vague at the moment, but coming together as I bide my time.

In any case, I do recall an event during which I was so bored and mortified by having to feign respect for our so-called "peers", the other ruling families in the region, that I set to orchestrating a rather clever little farce, manipulating their interactions in a subtle enough way to leave them unaware of the sorcery involved. Adeline saw through it and instead of chastising like most would, she _laughed_. I even let her make suggestions. So I suppose it started then and continued. She was keen to acknowledge the absurdity with humored grace and was not bothered by my mischief. I might even go so far as to say she enjoyed it, acting as a playmate of sorts.

Despite this playfulness, it has become obvious to me that Del takes our reign here quite seriously. She acts the Queen and even shows some ambition, bless. She has taken it upon herself to attempt to raise and train a proper Guard, recruiting first using athletic competitions then expanding to more practical contests of swordsmanship and archery. Needless to say the plebs were rather unenthusiastic at first, content with their aging soldiers with no ambition toward glory or enthusiasm for serving an unfamiliar House. I must admit I was rather amused by how Del made fools of the old guards so roundly at the first competition – I would have even helped if it had been necessary. They totally deserved the humiliation, useless pillocks, and Del was impressively merciless. I have a vague memory of being told she had been a soldier of a sort herself back on Earth, and witnessing her prowess, I believe it must be so. In any case, this impressed me enough that I instituted a new tax to pay for the armor for the Guard and a punitive fee for any family who did not put forward at least one recruit. Del decided later that she wanted an all female Guard for herself, the rest would be trained as simple soldiers. The Olympians are known for their strong women, so I had no reason to disagree. Plus, some of her recruits would make even Sif appear dainty. Still, misfits and hybrids all. If pity was something I was capable of, I might indulge for Del's sake, as this tiny, obscure Kingdom is likely to be the sum total of her life's accomplishments. Then again, for someone raised entirely as a lowborn, I suppose this might not seem so pathetic.

However, she _is_ the only daughter of Athena, who now rules the Olympian realm and who has promised to rid her of her human frailty. Not to mention the mother of the heirs of Asgard. It is difficult to not feel she deserves a bit more than _this_; A shame that her part will likely be cut short. But of course I have my own glory to think about and that must always take precedence.

I wait for her this time, just inside the door. I watch as she emerges from the pool, the water slipping cleanly off her body, the bathing costume clinging, blocking the view of only a small fraction of her skin. She walks past and pauses,

"Do you want to touch me?" She says again, just as I remembered.

I stand behind her, but project in front, hoping for a surprise, ready to change my mind.

"Yes," I say, unable to hide my urgency.

Just as I reach out, she turns around and kisses me. I was not expecting this and find my lips reluctant at first. I pull back.

"How did you know?" I ask, not used to having my tricks discovered.

"Does it matter?" she says, leaning forward.

This time I reach around her neck and pull her into me, kissing her lips with intention, tasting her mouth, feeling her breath on my face. When was the last time? Curiosity soon turns to an awakening lust that had been buried deep under the weight of my ambition. How could I have waited so long? Soon all I can think of is feeling her naked warmth against my skin. I reach under the cloth to feel her left breast, still damp from the swim. She whimpers at the fierceness of my touch and we press ourselves together as the ache grows. She steps backwards into the room, pulling me with her, looking for a soft patch on the floor as I bite her neck and run my hands down her hips. She pulls away to move toward a couch in the far corner. I grab her arm and pull her back harshly, slipping my hands under her swimming top to remove it, freeing her breasts to view. Instead of retreating again, she lunges forward for another kiss, pressing her lower body against mine. I let her feel my urgency before grabbing a fistful of her wet mop of black hair to force her head back, exposing her neck, the delicate length and vulnerability of it sending a chill of excitement through me.

She reaches to pull my shirt off and I move back enough to allow her the access. As I move forward to kiss her again, she surprises me by dropping town to wrap her mouth around my right nipple, sucking first, then biting it just hard enough to send shocked tendrils of pleasure down my body. She breaks away and moves quickly to the kline, turning to face me while sitting on the edge of it, her arms and shoulders back, proudly displaying her naked breasts, nipples taught with anticipation. I watch her a moment, wondering if the expression on her face is truly the lustful trepidation it appears to be. My mouth waters at the thought of feeling her from the inside, but I hold back just a moment to see her reaction. I walk slowly toward the kline.

"I wonder, Daughter of Athena, are you ready to spread your legs for an enemy of Midgard?" I say, kneeling before her, holding my hands just above the skin of her legs, "An outlaw of Asgard?"

She meets my eye for a long moment and my doubts of her motivation dissipate as I am immediately convinced of her lust. I sense the muscles of her thighs relax and as I glance downward, I see her knees fall apart delicately, just a fraction. I immediately place my hands on her legs, sliding them quickly up her thighs until I am able to grab hold of the last piece of cloth separating me from the pleasure I seek. At his point, perhaps I am too eager and rather roughly and clumsily I yank off the cloth and fumble to free myself so that I can satisfy my desire and quell the ache. I lunge forward, splaying her legs with my body until finally reaching the slippery warmth of her center into which I plunge my hardness as far as I can manage. I exhale while she moans and I hold myself still inside her at full depth for a moment. She whispers in my ear,

"_I spread my legs for you, Loki."_

_Edited for explicit sexual content. The full version can bee seen on adultfanfic for those over 18._

I admit I had forgotten the calm that comes immediately after, when the body is sated and the mind is clear and quiet. I cannot remember the last time when I was not angry. It has a way of lurking at the back, even in more pleasant times. Anger, jealousy, bitterness; how unexpected to be parted from these old friends, if only for a few minutes.

By the time I have had these thoughts, Del has pulled way and slid back up on the couch. A servant immediately appears with a jug of water, a few cloths and a basin of water. Del hastens to cover herself with a light tunic handed to her. I take a towel for this purpose. Once the servant is gone, Del pours herself a glass of water.

"Is it always like this?" Del asks in obvious surprise.

I don't really know what she is talking about.

"Like what?" I answer, still groggy.

"The servants lurking. As a prince, did you always have servants watching you have sex?"

"I don't really notice them, honestly," I say, pouring myself a glass. "And I tended engage my desires elsewhere."

"I think it's a bit odd. Will take some getting used to."

"Are you self-conscious or something? Olympians have a reputation for being a bit more free when it comes to such things, so I doubt they are even paying attention. I would say we could dismiss them, but it is rather convenient. Is it not so in Midgard?"

"I wouldn't know. I never had servants," she replies.

I try very hard to hide my disgust at being reminded of her low upbringing. Obviously I failed because a moment later, she hurls a grape from the fruit tray at me.

"You are such a snob. I never _served_ anyone if that helps," she says with a mocking frown.

A bit.

"You've done well. They don't suspect," I say. It is true that she has played her role well thus far.

"So what did you think?" She asks rather abruptly.

"About?"

She gestures to my lower half.

"I thought you would be louder," I say in fun.

"You work a little harder, I'll scream a little louder," she responds, raising a single eyebrow.

"Is that a challenge?" I ask, rather intrigued.

She shrugs. "I think, maybe, this is a good way for us to pass the time. We're both stuck here, at least for now. Why not make the best of it?"

"Why indeed?" I feel a stirring at this.

"If we go to my bedchamber, will they follow us with the tray and the basin? Then lurk in the corner until we're finished?" Del asks with a laugh.

"If the bedchamber does not offer the privacy you seek, what would be the point in moving?" I say, moving towards her.

"It does offer a bed," she suggests.

"Overrated," I say, sliding up on the kline next to her.

She blushes adorably at my obvious interest before saying, "I can't _now_. I have to feed the twins. Meet me in my bedchamber in an hour?"

I sigh loudly at the inconvenience, but nod. There are worse ways to bide one's time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You bring news from Olympus?" Thor asks with some trepidation.

Bodil, a chambermaid, had been sent with Loki to the Olympus moon Rukbat after the marriage. She was responsible for the health of the twins, periodically bringing them bits of the golden apples of Idunn and various other Asgardian supplies requested by Loki. During her visits, she reports to Thor of the happenings in the castle.

"You told me to come to you with any changes," Bodil begins.

"The children?" Thor breaks in, unable to hide his concern.

"They are fine, growing as they should. Perhaps it is not even worth saying," Bodil shakes her head, looking uncomfortable.

"Continue, woman. You obviously have something to share," Thor insists.

"The Kind and Queen grow closer, my Lord," she says delicately.

"Yes, you had told me last time that they were amiable toward one another. I am glad this continues," he nods to himself.

"Well, to clarify, I would say that they have grown particularly friendly _in the bedchamber_, but in truth, they rarely confine their affectionate activities to beds," she confesses, with a blush.

He frowns and looks confused.

She continues, "In fact, it would almost appear that they are intentionally expressing their _physical love _in such a way as to bewilder the servants."

He pauses a moment before responding, unsure what to say.

"Forgive my surprise. Loki never seemed to have time for…er… _affection_ growing up. I thought perhaps his interests lay elsewhere. I suppose it is as it should be for husband and wife. Do you feel there is any cause for concern?"

"No, my lord. They are certainly discrete around the children. Never once have I seen them in the nursery. In the kitchen, the banquet room, the war room, the gardens….but never the _nursery_." After a brief pause, she decides to say, "certainly not when the children were present."

Holding up his hand, he says, "Enough. Your message is quite clear. Anything else?"

"They did receive a rather large delivery just before I left. I was unable to see its contents, but it was brought in by a team of chariots. I was told it was a wedding gift from Aphrodite."

"If you feel it is relevant, report back of its contents next time."

"Yes my Lord."

Despite his words, Thor finds himself somewhat troubled by this news. He hopes that some real affection may be developing between the two of them – this would go a long way toward assuaging his guilt. And yet, with all the betrayals he has suffered at the hands of his brother, he is skeptical. He can hear his father's voice now, telling him he is too gullible – too willing to see good that does not exist, too hopeful for change. He worries, too, of what dark magic has kept Odin asleep for so long. Could he be dying, as Zeus died? It seems an impossible burden, so he puts that thought out of his mind. Surely he is just mourning Frigga, as it should be.

"Come, Loki, I have something to show you," Adeline says with excitement.

She grabs his hand and starts pulling him away from the library, where he had been pouring over some indigenous sorcery text. In truth, he had been anxiously awaiting her return from a training session that had kept her too busy to indulge his desires over the past few days. He had missed having her full attention and was now feigning indifference to enjoy the spectacle of her enthusiasm. _But why was she still in her armor_, he wondered.

"Come," she insists.

He pulls back, enjoying the game. She relents and moves forward to kiss him. But then immediately resumes her endeavors to lead him away.

"Fine," he says eventually and submits to her lead. "Where are we going?"

"To the hall. I've got something you need to see."

It takes a few minutes to get to the large doors that separate the castle main from the Great Hall. Once through, he sees a few soldiers in full armor – these are a selection from the regimen that Del has been training. At the far end stand the two Asgardian soldiers. They all kneel as Del and Loki inter the room. Del bids them to stand.

"The training comes along well. They are learning. We will have a display for you within a fortnight. But first…." Del declares with wide eyes and an excited grin. She walks up to one of the Asgardian soldiers.

"Give me your sword," she commands.

He hesitates. She shrugs, only mildly irritated and marches over to her group of Rukbat trainees and is immediately offered her choice of sword. She chooses one and then strides quickly back to the Asgardian and lifts her sword in challenge. He does not waver. She moves to strike and he lifts his shield defensively. The first contact is mild as she lets her sword smack the shield with a perfunctory strike. She steps back, turns her body in a near circle (with a conspiratorial grin on her face) and strikes the shield again with momentum this time; the collision of metals echoes through the room. Quickly, she repeats the same move, only this time when sword meets shield, the shield shatters into pieces and falls to the soldier's feet.

Del takes a few steps backward, allowing all to see what just happened, dropping her sword in the process.

"Give me your sword," she insists again and again the Asgardian hesitates. This time, Loki intervenes. The sheathed sword begins to move in the belt of the soldier. He looks down at it in horror while a large snake appears to have taken its place and slithers from the sheath to the ground below. It slithers to Del's feet and then immediately reverts to its metallic form. Hiding her amazement, she glances at Loki and gives him a nod before reaching down to grab the handle. Once in her hand, she rushes quickly toward the Rukbat soliders in full attack. They raise their shields in defense as she leaps towards them. She gets in two full strikes before the blade of the sword splinters in two. She throws the remnants to the feet of its Asgardian owner.

She turns to Loki with a satisfied grin. Before he speaks to question this display, she glances toward the soldiers.

"Leave us," Loki orders. "All," he says looking at the trainees.

They look to Adeline, who nods. Once the room is cleared, Loki asks,

"What is this?"

He is taken aback by her exuberance as she rushes over to pick up a shield and bring it to him.

"A gift from Haphaestus. He has forged them all himself using the most powerful metal, as you saw. Apparently it has been millennia since he last crafted any such weapons. And we've got enough for fifty soldiers. Aphrodite promises at least another hundred, maybe more."

"And why would he do this now?" Loki asks, always skeptical.

Del remembers her visit from Aphrodite a few weeks before. "Well done," Aphrodite had said, appearing out of nowhere after word of their intimacy had leached out of the castle. "No one thought it possible. Except me, of course. The eternal optimist. But even I had nearly lost hope." She paused a moment before adding in a more serious tone, "Do you wish to tame him?"

She answered, "On the contrary, I wish to stoke him."

"Very well. I won the bet, so Haphaestus will do as I tell him. Good luck. Loki is a bit prickly, but we need some of that around here. Everyone is so boringly complacent. Shake it up!" And then she disappeared.

"Never underestimate the power of a good lay," Del responds.

"Still not following," Loki answers.

Del's eyes betray her happiness; her speech is quick with excitement. "Remember back when I said that people might think we were not properly married because we hadn't actually _done the deed_? Well, I honestly just said that because I was feeling rather desperate and lonely, but it turns out it was a real thing. And there were running bets that it would never happen, but it did. So Aphrodite won the bet. And I'm guessing Haphaestus also got laid because of it, so it all inspired him to fire up the forge."

"How much more has he promised?" Loki says, intrigued.

"More than enough for a proper Guard. Enough for a small army," Del enthuses.

"Do you honestly think they can fight?" He asks, dubious of the potential of these local misfits.

"Yes. In time," Del says with conviction. "You would be amazed how powerful the desire to rise above is to those who have been discounted."

"What is your ambition with this?" Loki asks, surprised by his Queen's initiative.

"We have a phrase on Earth – 'sometimes the best defense is a good offense'. I want to feel safe. We are vulnerable here, despite their efforts to hide us," Del explains.

"It is as you say. They leave us here to be hidden, but not from our enemies; only from them. I had not thought it possible to build an army from these dregs. Show me otherwise and I will do my part," Loki says with just enough conviction.

Del watches Loki closely as he casually strolls around the room, now empty save the armor. His expression remains frustratingly neutral as he lifts up one of the shields and lets his fingers glide over the coat of arms on the front. He had paid little attention when the design was presented. This was all temporary, so what did it matter? He never thought of an army so emblazoned. This is a surprise and he has never liked surprises, even good ones. And yet, this could be something. Could _she_ be something? Loki glances toward Del after setting the shield down, aware of her rapt attention.

She stands toward the sidewall, unsure of what to do next. He turns to walk towards her and with a flick of his hand, she hears the large doors on either end of the room seal shut. There is a certain menace to him that makes her bristle with doubt.

"Are you not pleased?" She says, grasping.

Loki finds himself enjoying her abrupt insecurity and chooses not to answer. When he is just a few feet from her, he reaches down and picks up a sword, which he then drags behind him as he closes the distance between them. Avoiding her gaze, he mumbles some foreign words and flicks his hand again. She gasps as the armor and lining disintegrates off of her body, first turning into black moths and then flying away in all directions, leaving her only in her undergarments. Loki steps even closer.

"Do you fear me, Adeline?" He asks.

Del reflexively juts out her chin slightly and responds in a soft but firm tone, "I fear no one."

_Such willful pride_, he thinks to himself. _She even failed to address me properly_. He waits for the anger to surge as it always has, but this time it remains quietly underneath.

Her heart pounds in her chest, but she dares not let her breath catch.

Feeling slightly dizzy, she continues "But I am not fool enough to think I should not."

"Why?" He demands, his face close enough that she can feel his cool breath on her cheek.

"Because you have power that I do not understand," she answers.

Next she hears a clanking sound as he leans back slightly to show that the sword he was holding has morphed into a set of shackles and chain. He leans back toward her and whispers, "lay down."

As she does so, she notices that her arms are now in the shackles, the chain behind her back. Her eyes go wide as she watches Loki's face, acknowledging her vulnerability.

He did not plan this – it is not clear even to him what his motivations are. He is merely reacting. He possesses no desire to hurt or humiliate her, quite the contrary. But this is what he does. After the delicious moment of surprised tension has passed, he kneels down to her level. He is struck with a desire to make her scream so loud the guards will think she's being tortured. He smiles at the thought of them trying to break through the enchanted doors.

Del exhales as she can see his expression change from something too close to malice for her taste to his more usual mischievous. Without a word, he reaches up and yanks down her pants, exposing her lower half. Spreading her legs with his hands, he leans forward to press his face against her lips, slipping his tongue between the folds. Of course she already tastes sweet and slippery – the thrill of the demonstration, the pride, the anticipation of approval, all arousing to her.

_Etc. etc. (edited for adult content)._

She is still whimpering when stands up, straightens his clothes and strides out of the room, releasing the doors. By the time the guards rush into the room, alarmed by the sounds they had heard, Del looks down to find her clothes and armor in place, the shackles gone and the chain nowhere to be seen. She stands up quickly to assure them all is well.

_How much of it had been an illusion? Is it all illusion?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Months go by. Del is busy training her guard and the soldiers; their initial successes met with an infusion of military advisors from their Olympian allies. The army grows.

Returning one evening from a training camp, she quickly bathes and attends to the children so she can find Loki. She is frustrated to be told he is in a meeting with advisors. She paces the hallway, debating where to wait for him. Finally, they begin to emerge from the hall, Loki's expression dark and formal, as it always is when he is dealing with the drudgery of the Kingdom. She had meant to tuck herself out of sight around the corner to facilitate a less formal encounter, but one of the advisors catches sight of her and launches into a stylized greeting. This is promptly followed by an inquiry into the state of the army, during which Del betrays her annoyance with curt responses and thin lips. The man speaking to her is named Doreius, who, having a mind that jumps quickly to conspiracy, would take her reluctance to engage in conversation as a sign of some mischief or another. With this in mind, she catches herself and speaks more directly to the questions asked, resisting the urge to make up some excuse or other for her abruptness. Excessive detail is always a giveaway of subterfuge. So she takes a breath and does her duty. _The new recruits are assimilating well._ _She is narrowing down her choice for General. Yes, she will consider Faoenos, a veteran from Doreius' home Kingdom, etc. etc._

After some time, she is finally able to steal a glance toward Loki and is instantly relieved to see the gloom faded and replaced by that familiar twinkle in his eye. He does not approach, but moments later, she feels a cool pressure run up the side of her leg as if a hand were winding its way under her dress. She leans back slightly to test his presence and sure enough, feels the compression of his body on her back, though still invisible to the other men around her. When the advisors finally leave, he disappears the projection and visually occupies the true position of his physical form. She turns to face him.

"I thought they would never leave," she says, giving him a conspiratorial look.

"And I'd thought you had begun to favor the sweat and dank of the training fields," he chides.

Pulling away slightly, she responds, "An unpleasant, but necessary delay, I assure you."

Loki turns and begins to walk, taking gentle hold of Del's hand as he does so. He leads her around a corner and twirls her until her back is pressed against the wall. He leans forward as if to kiss her, but then inhales and pulls back.

"Why did you send Kleio to me?"

Del cannot completely suppress a smirk as she answers with feigned innocence, "To inform you of my delay, my Lord. She is one of my fastest runners."

"And you also bid her to undress for me?"

"Did you not find her attractive? I was confident you would. Those legs are to die for," she says with continued playfulness.

He frowns just enough to express real irritation, "A test, then? I nearly bedded her out of spite."

"Why didn't you, then?" She asks, curious to hear his answer.

"Too much effort," he shrugs.

She shakes her head, clearly frustrated, "That was my actual intention – I _wanted _you to fuck her."

"To what end?" He asks, skeptical.

"I had been away a while, I was going to be delayed further. I thought you could use a release. I was being thoughtful."

"Thoughtful? Since when are women _thoughtful_ in this way?"

Gauging his response, she decides to relent. "Perhaps I wasn't being _entirely_ unselfish. I saw it as an opportunity to demonstrate for you the uniqueness of our chemistry."

"That confident, are you? Or did you give her specific instructions?"

"No need for that. If you'd taken her like you were supposed to, you'd _know_," she says, reaching up to touch his neck.

Still resisting a kiss, Loki's voice softens. "You misunderstand me, wife. This is not something I need," he says, moving even closer, millimeters from her lips. "It is something I _want_. There is a difference."

He closes the distance to nibble on her lip before turning away and leading her quickly in the direction of his bedchamber. By choice or by influence, the nature of their encounter differs depending on which bedchamber they end up in; assuming they make it to either. His, and their passion is more violent, more explicitly physical; the kind of sex where the desire to crawl inside the other person leads to the exquisitely desperate tearing of flesh. It is all teeth and nails and screams and blood. Not torture, not submission or anything fitting a particular fetish; just a wilder sort of abandonment and escape.

Hers, and it is sweaty and long and focused on the titillation of every nerve ending. It is wet and messy and filled with challenges of stamina and exhibitions of pleasure. Both are equally enjoyed, but simply spring from different precursors. Oddly, they rarely plan where to go and have yet to disagree. This night, they start in one and end in the other….

When they arrive in his room, he rips at her clothes, enjoying the sound of tearing cloth. He kisses her lips greedily, pushing her toward the bed as they continue to disrobe each other, with a tenuous balance between fumbling and finesse, passion and restraint. _She_ had taught him restraint or at least introduced him to the concept of _prolonging_.

They crawl onto the bed, now in only their cloth underclothes. She pushes him onto his back so she can straddle him. She runs her hands over the fine muscles of his chest, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands grab for her breasts, her nipples hard and sensitive to his touch. She grinds against his erection, direct contact still inhibited by cloth. She breaks away from the kiss to say, breathless,

"I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone."

And she means it, which is all the more terrifying. She has wondered, now and then, why this is so. He is not like the other men she has desired. He is _nothing_ like Colonel Waring, about whom she'd fantasized for years. He was neither technically more skilled when they first became intimate, nor more physically perfect than those she found satisfyingly adequate back in the day. She tells herself it is not the menace in his eyes; the obvious malice that comes from any perceived slight; the undercurrent of fear. All of these things exist, but she has never before found such things a source of infatuation, of longing, of excitement. _There is something else, something emergent…_

He wants to believe her declaration. At first it seemed of no consequence if she were feigning or not, but at some point he began to pay attention. Could he be fooled? Perhaps, he consented, due to lack of experience in these matters. In truth, he had spent more time than he would ever admit contemplating this question; researching in his own way, _assessing_. In the end, he had become comfortable with the belief that her passion was genuine; she was duly vulnerable, slave to her desires. And yet, perhaps it is in her nature to always be so, with anyone.

"Including my brother?" He is unable to stop himself from asking.

She responds without a moment of hesitation, "You brother was a passing fancy, easily sated. You set me on fire."

He smiles at this, though can't help but think he would like it more if his brother were forced to hear. He flips her over and demands,

"Show me."

… (removed for adult content)

Sometime later, in Del's chamber, they finally separate, sweaty and spent.

Loki reclines to watch her pull a short tunic over her head, sweeping her long black hair to the side. "You are truly a siren – no woman has ever distracted me so. I could live inside your cunt."

Del laughs at this. "As my legs, my bedchamber is always open to you. It seems a pity to reside at opposite ends of the castle when there is plenty of room here."

Ignoring the implication, Loki reaches for a goblet only to find it empty.

"More wine," Del calls out to the assumed servants. "And bring the salve."

A servant arrives almost immediately, pouring wine in their cups and handing Del a bowl of a creamy substance. Del moves to face Loki's back and begins to rub the salve into the deep scratch marks in his back.

He flinches, "You need not bother with that. I heal quickly."

"You weren't touched much as a child, were you?" She teases his reluctance.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You recoil from physical contact."

"Ah, is that what I have been doing for the third time today?" He mocks.

"Never mind. I'm almost done," she sighs.

In truth, it is only ever the idea of the touch that makes him pull back. Once hands are on him, he is quite pleased.

As she continues to rub the creamy substance into the remnants of the disappearing scratches, she asks casually, "why does your skin change color?"

"Does it?" He responds without discernable surprise, though his voice is low and measured.

"It turns a rather deep blue. Based on the timing, I have come to see it as a sign of your particular…_enjoyment_."

"Do you find it displeasing?" he asks with caution, instantly wishing he hadn't.

"It is the form I like; the color is of little consequence," she responds warmly.

Loki takes a moment to consider before speaking.

"You know I am not Asgardian by birth? You guessed it the first time we met."

She makes an acknowledging sound, though it had never been explicitly confirmed.

"My fa… _Odin _thought it best I blend in. And once I came to understand the necessary magic, I continued the illusion. Only, I suppose there are _moments_ when I lose my concentration." He says this last line almost sweetly, as if he would blush. She responds by leaning forward and giving his neck a soft bite. He reaches back and touches her hair.

The moment of apparent tenderness is fleeting. Quickly, Del pulls away and moves to put down the salve on the table and hand Loki a shirt. As she is doing this, he says,

"Nurse asks if we are trying for more heirs."

Del nods at the implication. She kneels down across from him, grabbing a chalice from the table.

She responds without emotion, "Wouldn't be wise, as a _different_ child would raise suspicion. It isn't a worry now, but once the twins are weaned, I'll ask about how to stop it. Women always know such things, even here."

He nods, satisfied with both her answer and her tone.

After a moment, she takes a bunch of grapes from the table, popping one in her mouth. A rather devilish expression flashes across her face.

"How do you feel about taking this to the next level?" She asks, cryptically.

Frowning his confusion, he replies, "We are already bound in marriage, so…you mean _physically_?"

He says this part with such a deep, piercing look of anticipation that she nearly drops her wine as her mouth goes dry imagining what sort of 'next level' he could be envisioning. She shakes off the thought, banishing the quickly developing ache between her legs.

"I was referring to more practical matters," she says with a hint of disappointment.

He leans backward at this and takes a drink. "Explain yourself, woman. I am in no mood to play guessing games."

"We are close to conquering all the kingdoms of this moon – I think it will be ours within the month, they fall so quickly to any show of strength. But what then? I think we need to take all of them – the _other_ moons," she responds with rehearsed seriousness.

He frowns slightly, working out her possible motivations. "I appreciate your lust for power, I do, but we have no ships, no means to transport an army to another world." He adds, tepidly, "I suppose we might be able to bargain…" This is all such a departure from his plan – his long-term strategy, that he finds the potential distraction of it irritating.

"What about a portal? Could you not open one up to allow an army to pass?" She asks with excitement.

He nods reluctantly, "such deeds are possible, but require a source of power unavailable to me now."

"What if it _wasn't_…unavailable, that is?" She responds with a twinkle.

"Didn't your mother teach you it is not nice to tease?" Loki says, his irritation fading.

_Never tease a weasel_, she remembers to herself. "What if I knew how to get your scepter back? The one you used to open a portal to Earth? Could we use that?"

He sits up at this suggestion, unable to hide his interest.

"How do you know of this?" He blurts.

"I was on the team, remember? Not during your attempted invasion, but there are _reports_ and such," she answers without emotion.

A wave of anger sweeps through him at the memory of his defeat. And for her to speak so freely of his humiliation, links the anger to her. She can see him tense, so she quickly says,

"You know there are more than twelve thousand species of ant? There are slave making ants, army ants, fire ants, bullet ants?"

He barely hears her, so wrapped up he is in himself and his fury. Her words just scratch the surface and he responds, "What? I don't see…"

"I am told you referred to the residents of Earth as ants. Well, you weren't wrong. As one of them, I can attest to the analogy. However, the characterization leads to the inevitable question of why the fuck would you want to rule over a planet full of ants? They are an unruly, nasty, vengeful and crafty lot of creatures that are incapable of sustained cooperation between them. Better to rule the moons of Olympus; perhaps Olympus itself?" She says this, holding fast to her carrot.

Loki nods, her words acting like the salve she had put on his back moments before.

He shrugs as if to explain, "I was unaware of their unpalatability, taken as a whole."

Having assuaged his insecurity, she continues, "In any case, the scepter is still on Earth and I know where. We'd need some help getting it, but that will be easy enough to arrange."

The anger dissipated, his mind jumps to the possibilities – this could change everything.

"How do you know?" He asks.

"I came across some information. By accident, really. Does it matter?"

"But how could you get such information _here_. Unless…" Loki eyes her suddenly with suspicion.

Taking his implication, Del responds defensively, "Gods, it's nothing like that. I just go there sometimes, to see my Dad and my Gran. It was really lonely here in the beginning. Where did you think I got all those books?"

"What books?" he stammers.

"You really pay no attention to me outside of the bedroom, do you? The books in the library on military strategy and monarchies? We've _talked_ about them."

"Oh, _those_ books," he acknowledges, conjuring some vague memory. "But how can you go there? It's across the universe."

"There's a portal. Aries showed me. They were all supposed to be closed, but he likes to stir trouble, so he hid a wee one from Athena. He showed me how to use it."

Feeling a twinge of jealousy erupt, he asks, "and why would he do that?"

"He's a bit of a sucker for a girl with a sword, frankly. And I may have blackmailed him a tiny bit," Del says with a wink.

"So you just pop back to Midguard whenever you want. For a cup of tea with your grandmother? And during one such visit, you just happened to find out what happened to my scepter?"

"Close enough. Again, certain channels are still open. And we can use that to our advantage. I have a plan," she says, squaring her shoulders.

"Why should I trust you? Or, perhaps more to the point, why should you trust me?"

She had anticipated this. She lifts her head and responds, "I'm no fool. I have given this a lot of thought. I have run all the various scenarios and cannot come up with a legitimate reason why either of us should not work together. We are both trapped here, against our will. And yet, we both have nothing to gain by abandoning our current situation. What would I gain by delivering you to the Avengers? Such a captive would give them no advantage. And without you, I am considerably more vulnerable here. You may have your issues on Asgard, but they are mostly hidden here – you are King and they would not view betrayal as a virtue in their new Queen. And as for you, your marriage to me legitimizes you – keeps you out of prison. As the presumed father of the heirs, you must be welcomed. Leave too soon and you are a criminal – an enemy. And you cannot count any allies of Thanos as your friends. Here you have some power to build from; some support. It follows that whatever power I procure for you would work to my benefit."

Loki takes another long drink from his goblet. He tilts his head to the side and says, "Lets hear this plan of yours, then."


End file.
